In Your Binder
by SpaceHead
Summary: Harry and Draco end up in each others shoes during Eighth Year, after the war. Or rather, Draco ends up in Harry's binder. Body Swap fic, Harry is transgender, mild smut. TW: Mentions of self harm


**Year Eight, After Voldemort**

* * *

Harry didn't sleep most nights, he supposed it was leftover from the war. He was often kept up by thoughts that were bloody well likely to drive him mad, if he wasn't already. Harry let out a heavy sigh and turned on his side. If he listened closely, he could hear the even breathing of Draco in the bed on the other side of the room. For some unknown reason, hearing Draco breathe calmed him down most nights.

Although in the beginning it had felt like a cruel joke, Harry and Draco being roomed together, Harry had managed to find comfort in it. Draco had merely pursed his lips and stayed quiet about the whole affair. Harry had noticed that Draco was much quieter this year. His days were no loner filled with the sound of Draco's drawling voice and laughter from his lackeys. Now, Draco kept his head down and only seemed to do the bare minimum of what he had to do. Eat, sleep, and go to class.

Sometimes, in the dead of night, Harry would hear Draco get out of bed almost soundlessly and trundle over to the bathroom. He would stay in there for hours at a time, and Harry had been tempted to get out of bed when he thought he heard crying. But Harry always stayed in bed, and in the morning Draco would get dressed and leave the room, eye bags a little darker than usual. Harry hated those nights the most. He wanted to help Draco but knew he would only be swiftly dismissed.

Harry rolled onto his back, resting his hand on his chest, before swiftly moving it away again. It was always in the worst moments that Harry would become aware of his body. He shuddered at the sudden memory of Voldemort, touching him, and whispering _I know what you really are._ How the hell was Harry expected to simply go back to normal after the war? How was anybody expected to do that? Tears of frustration budded at Harry's eyes and he ran a hand through his unruly hair. He had only been a child. He shouldn't have been manipulated into fighting one of the most powerful wizards of his time.

Harry took a shaky breath, turning on his side again and curling in on himself. He had always been expected to stay so strong. _Defeat Voldemort, Harry, don't worry about the scorn you'll receive from students for simply being you._ Well, he'd done it, and been promptly deemed a hero. One label after another, that's what Harry's life was. The Girl Who Lived, The Boy Who Lived, The Boy Who Lived _Twice._ Harry didn't want to be that. He just wanted to be a normal boy with normal responsibilities, one that didn't have to bind his chest every morning and suffer though extra pain each month.

Harry wallowed in self pity until he fell asleep, tears drying on his pillow.

 _III_

Draco hated being himself. He hated being a Malfoy. The name that once gave him pride he now scorned. He had been such a pompous child, it was bloody foolish. Everyone hated the Malfoys, and all Draco wanted to do was get his final year of Hogwarts over with. He wanted to become a healer, but he doubted he would get hired. Who wanted a former death eater to heal them? Draco scoffed out loud in the darkness of the night, Harry only a few feet away from him. As if anyone would bother to understand that Draco was forced into the death eater life style.

Draco turned on his side, facing Harry's bed. The Golden Boy, living in the same room as Draco the Death Eater. The press sure had a fit about that one. Everything Draco did was an attempt to kill somebody, or bring Voldemort back. As if he wanted that slimy fuck around again. Draco was so tired of it all. He was tired of the negative attention he got on all sides, although he was sure he deserved it. He deserved every nasty word and article ever written about him. He especially deserved the dirty mark branded into his arm, never to fade away.

Usually, Draco was good at keeping thoughts like these at bay. Nights were always hard for him. Sleeping right next to Harry Potter was a constant reminder of how badly he'd fucked everything up. He shouldn't have been such a git when he was younger, then maybe Harry would have accepted his friendship. He wondered how differently everything would've been. Draco sighed. _This is what you deserve, remember? You deserve it all._

Tears fell from his eyes like water broken out from a dam, and it was all Draco could do to muffle his sobs in his pillow. What he wanted above all else was to get to know Harry Potter, to be able to be his closest friend and confidant. Draco wanted Harry so strongly, he was afraid to think about what his true feelings really were. Something Harry would be disgusted by, probably.

 _You deserve it._

* * *

Harry yawned and rubbed his eyes, brain foggy in the morning. Harry sat up and pulled the curtain back from his bed. _That's funny,_ He thought, _I usually sleep on the right side, not the left._ Harry looked around blearily for his glasses, hand landing flat on his side table instead of his glasses. _They're usually there._ Harry slapped his cheeks lightly, trying to wake himself up more, and blinked rapidly. How come nothing was blurry? Harry felt his face, wondering if his glasses were magically already on, and gasped when he saw how pale his hands were.

"What the hell?!"

Harry looked down at himself, or rather, Draco's body, and saw that he was dressed in the softest pajamas he'd ever felt. Sure enough, when Harry looked at his bare arms, he saw the dark mark. What interested him most, surprisingly, was his other arm. He ran his fingers along his arms, feeling the faint scars in straight lines run all the way up. Shock coursed through him when he saw rather new looking cuts hidden under his short sleeve.

"Malfoy..."

"POTTER!"

Harry's head snapped up when he saw Draco, or rather himself, standing there looking furious.

 _III_

Draco got up to do his usual morning stretches, a bit sluggish from lack of sleep. Draco opened his eyes, and tried to blink the sleep out of them, only to find everything looking a bit blurry. Not only that, but his pajamas were neither silk nor Slytherin green! Alarm coursed through Draco when he realized he was not only wearing Gryffindor colors, but he had _tits!_ Draco shot up quickly, wrenching back the bed curtains, and looked for the trademark glasses. Sure enough, the hideous black glasses were sitting there on the side table, almost mocking him. Draco jammed them onto his face- or rather Harry's face, and took deep breaths, which he found a little difficult to do.

Draco carefully, ever so carefully, lifted up his shirt and stared at his ribs. _Why were Harry's ribs so messed up?_ Draco quickly dropped his shirt, not wanting to look any farther above at his chest. His pants fit rather oddly, and he distinctly felt as if something were missing. His prick! Draco had just about enough of this, and rounded his bed, only to find Harry probing his body. Draco felt his heart jump to his throat. Harry was feeling his scars.

"POTTER!"

 _III_

Harry's stomach clenched. Draco Malfoy was in his body. Draco had his chest. Harry suddenly felt very much like throwing up.

"Potter what the bloody hell did you do?! Why are we in each other's bodies?!"

Harry spluttered. It was very odd seeing himself yell at, well, himself. Except it was Draco.

"I didn't do anything! What makes you think _I_ did this?! I'm hating this as much as you are!"

Draco huffed and crossed his arms, then very quickly uncrossed them, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"Well? What are we supposed to do then, Potter."

Harry was annoyed that Draco was asking him, as if he somehow had the magic answer.

"I dunno! I suppose we talk to Hermione, she always knows what to do."

Draco eyed Harry. "Fine, we talk to Granger. But you're showering first, I refuse to let you dirty up my body."

Harry's heart sped up. "Er, but..."

Draco rolled his eyes, somehow managing to make Harry's body look haughty with indifference.

"Yes Harry, you get to see me naked, isn't it a blessed day. Not as if you're the only man that's seen me naked. Just don't touch my prick, you might break it."

Harry stood there for a moment, processing the information. Harry gets to see Draco naked, while he's in his body. And he's apparently not the only man to see Draco naked, which means he at least has some interest in men. Draco had called Harry a man as well, despite being in Harry's distinctly unmanly body. Harry had too many emotions to process.

"Well don't just stand there with a dumb look on my face!" Draco snapped. "Go on, get in the shower, and make it quick!"

Harry shook his head a little, shaking himself out of his thoughts. "Right, just, uh... Can you please close your eyes and let me dress you?"

Draco stared at him for a moment, before nodding. "Hurry up and dress me then, I don't wanna be stuck up here forever."

Draco shuts his eyes and Harry pulls the shirt off of him. "Er, the binders going to feel a bit tight around the chest-"

Draco sighed impatiently. "Yes yes, get on with it."

Harry slid the binder over Draco's head, and made sure it looked like it fit right, before dressing Draco in the uniform. It was an odd experience, dressing himself when he was in another body. Draco opened his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Harry why are your ribs so...?"

Harry swallowed and glanced down. "Ace bandages aren't the best for binding, apparently."

Draco made a noncommittal hum. "Go shower already. And don't touch my prick."

Harry nodded and made his way to the bathroom, shutting it before undressing in front of the mirror. Harry sucked in a breath when he saw the scars across Draco's chest. He could hardly believe he'd done this to Draco. Harry ran his hand along the scar, then his eyes traveled further down. It felt like an invasion of privacy, to stare so openly at Draco's cock, but he hadn't seemed to mind. For the first time, Harry knew what it felt like to have all the right bits. He grinned at himself in the mirror. Draco looked quite nice with a smile.

Harry turned on the shower and stepped in, enjoying the feel of warm water hitting his flat chest. Harry felt the sting of the water on the cuts on his arm, and wondered why Draco would do something like this to himself. Harry felt a pang of hurt in his heart. Did Draco really think so little of himself now? Harry remembered Draco when he was younger, all proud and snotty. He wondered how things would have turned out if he'd taken Draco's hand on the train, all those years ago.

Harry was startled out of his thoughts when someone knocked on the door. It was Draco. "Hurry up in there, I wanna talk to Hermione about this already!"

Harry quickly washed his hair, reveling in the experience of being able to run his hands through Draco's hair, before stepping out and toweling off. He couldn't help but notice that he had a pert little ass. Shame laced through Harry. He shouldn't be thinking these things, not while he was in Draco's body. Harry wrapped the towel around his waist and opened the bathroom door. Draco was waiting just outside, arms crossed and foot tapping. It was nice to know that Draco could act just as petulant in another body as he did in his own.

"I'm dressing you, I don't trust your sense of style."

Harry quirked a grin. "I thought you wanted to see Hermione?"

Draco stuck his nose in the air. "Looking nice is important too, Potter. Now come."

* * *

After dressing Harry in what Draco deemed was acceptable attire, the two sat down to formulate a plan. Draco was to confront Hermione and bring her up to their dorm. Draco did so, swiftly and efficiently, arriving back in their room with a frazzled looking Hermione. She started looking the both of them over, even going so far as to grab Harry's tongue and yank it out of his mouth, somehow figuring out exactly what was wrong with them.

"You've switched!"

Harry and Draco stared at her. "Yes, Granger, I think we've deduced that by now, thank you."

Hermione shook her head, dark ringlets of hair swishing. "No, it's a very rare thing that happens once a millennia. But don't worry, it only lasts twenty four hours."

Harry piped up. "But why did this happen to _us_?"

Hermione tapped her chin. "I suppose the ancient magic of Hogwarts decided it was time. No one knows exactly why it happens, but it seems to happen only between former enemies."

Harry and Draco looked at each other. "So what should we do?"

Hermine picked her bag up and headed to the door. "You'll just have to wait out the twenty four hours, I suppose. Harry will act like Draco, and Draco will act like Harry. I won't say a word."

Both boys got up. "Harry Potter, you will not speak a single word to anyone, you hear me? Not a word! Just go to my classes and come straight back. Please, try not to mess up my grades."

Harry nodded. "Yeah yeah, got it, don't speak to anyone."

Draco nodded once. "Good. Granger, I suppose I'll have to eat breakfast with you."

Hermione nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow, Harry. You'll do fine."

Harry sighed and waved goodbye to Hermione and Draco, then left the room shortly after. As he walked the halls, he noticed that student would either avoid him like the plague, or leer at him and hiss nasty things. There was no in between. How did Draco put up with this everyday? Harry dutifully kept his head down and sat at the far end of the Slytherin table, mostly secluded from everyone else. Harry shoveled food into his mouth, careful to not make a mess. The quicker he ate, the less likely it was he'd get into a confrontation.

Unfortunately, confrontation seemed to be Harry's forte, as a student that passed by him shoved his head down, almost face first into his food. The student snickered.

"Fucking faggot."

Another laughed. "Death Eater scum! I'm surprised you eat like a normal person, I thought all Death Eaters ate souls."

The first student roared with laughter. "Not this one! He eats dick for dessert, don't you Malfoy?"

Rage became Harry's very being, and he stood up quickly, towering over the student. "I'm sorry, would you like to say that again? Something about me being gay? Why are you so fixated on that, I wonder. Are you having some thoughts, Pratchett?" Harry recognized the Gryffiindor student. "Are you having...homosexual thoughts, perhaps?"

Harry watched the students face turn red as a beet, fury written on his face.

"It's okay, Pratchett. There's nothing wrong with being gay. It's not healthy to deny those feelings, you know."

Harry wrenched the wand out of Pratchett's hand before he had the chance to cast a hex at him.

"I don't think so."

Harry promptly threw his wand, where it landed in a bowl of mashed potatoes, before storming off. Draco would be delighted to know that Harry arrived at his first class early.

 _III_

Draco had half risen out of his seat when he saw Harry standing up to some arsehole students. He had almost run over there when he saw the student pull his wand, but Harry managed to take care of it non violently, and leave the great hall before anything else happened. Draco felt a twinge of annoyance, he had specifically told Harry not to talk to anyone, much less confront anyone. Draco huffed and turned back in his seat, only to find the Weasley looking at him like he'd gone bonkers.

"You okay mate? You looked ready to jump in the brawl over there."

Draco nodded. "Yeah, fine."

Granger was looking worried, and Draco stood up. "Think I'm gonna head to class now, see ya."

Weasley looked bewildered. "It's half an hour early! Tell me you're not obsessed with him again, I don't want a repeat of that."

Draco felt surprised. Harry had been obsessed with him? "Obsessed? No I'm not- I'm not obsessed."

Ron shakes his head. "You really need to get over that crush."

Draco's cheeks warmed. _Harry had a crush on him._ Or used to.

"...Harry, why don't you sit down and eat some more-" Draco flinched when Hermione raised her hand up, presumably to rest on his shoulder. _What the hell was that?_ Draco had never flinched at things like that before. It must be Harry's body reacting against his will. But why would he do that? Hermione was looking at him with wide eyes, and Draco decided that now would be a good time to leave.

As he walked swiftly down the halls, Draco mulled over his thoughts. He had found out too many intimate things about Harry in less than two hours. Draco bit his lip in concern. Harry seemed more affected by the war than Draco thought, but he had a hunch the flinching didn't entirely have something to do with that.

* * *

After a long day, Harry and Draco flopped on their respective beds. They both let out a long breath, and Harry was the first to speak.

"You deal with a lot of shit, Draco."

Draco felt his heart warm at being called by his first name. "Yeah, so do you."

Harry let out a more than bitter laugh. "Who knew transphobes would hate you even after you defeated the dark lord."

Draco shook his head. "It was kind of shocking really."

Harry ran his hand through his hair. "You got so much worse I mean...how can so many people not like you?"

"Ex death eater, remember?"

"Yeah but they gotta understand your dad put you up to it, right?"

Draco smiled softly. "I'm glad someone understands."

The two lapsed into silence until Harry turned on his side, facing Draco.

"Hey Draco?"

"Hm?"

Harry considered him for a moment. "Why do you hurt yourself?" It came out as a whisper, and Harry could see his jaw tighten. Draco was silent long enough for Harry to think he'd royally fucked up and he'd never get an answer, until Draco spoke.

"If I tell you, will you answer one of my questions?"

Harry hesitated but nodded. Draco took a deep breath before going into his explanation.

"I do it because I deserve it." Before Harry could interject Draco held up a finger and continued. "I do. I wasn't strong enough during the war. I let my father bend me to his will, I never fought back. I'm weak. I'm death eater scum, just like everyone says." Draco's voice broke and Harry acted on instinct, pulling Draco into a hug.

"You're not death eater scum." Harry murmured into his hair. "You said it yourself, your father manipulated you. If you had disobeyed you likely would have been killed. It's alright, Draco."

Draco wound his arms around Harry, and after a while he spoke up. "Why do you flinch when someone raises their hand?" Draco felt Harry stiffen, and almost pulled away, but Harry held him tight.

"The muggles I lived with they...they beat me. Locked me in a cupboard for a long time. I was a freak to them."

Draco squeezed Harry. "You're not a freak, Harry."

"Thank you, Draco."

The two held each other for an insurmountable time, until Draco pulled back a bit. "We'll be in our own bodies tomorrow."

Harry sighed lightly and nodded. "Yeah, we will."

Draco looked up at him. "There's something I've always wanted to do."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. "What is it?"

"Make out with myself."

Harry felt as if time itself had stopped, and suddenly Draco's lips were pressed against Harry's and they were kissing, they were really kissing, before Harry broke into giggles.

"What? What's so funny?"

Harry hiccuped for air, cheeks rosy with laughter. "I never, in my whole life, imagined my first kiss with you would be like this!"

Draco couldn't help himself, Harry's laughter was contagious and he began giggling. "Me neither! But damn am I hot."

The two leaned on each other, laughing themselves silly, until they finally calmed down and wiped tears from their eyes. Draco smirked at him. "So you imagined what it'd be like to kiss me, eh?"

Harry glanced away, a bit embarrassed. "I've kind of had a crush on you for a really, really long time now."

"Imagine the scandal. Former Death Eater Draco Malfoy and the Boy Who Lived dating."

Harry looked at Draco seriously. "That's a headline I wouldn't mind seeing."

Draco felt as if his heart skipped a few beats. "Are you saying...?"

Harry took Draco's hand. "Draco, I want try...us."

"Okay." It came out a bit more flustered than Draco expected, but then he laughed. "I was just asked out, by myself!"

Harry cracked up. "I just asked myself out!"

They both fell on each other laughing again. "Damn we're egotistical!"

The two wrapped around each other, neither sure whose limb was whose, and cuddled for what felt like hours. That is, until Draco squirmed uncomfortably.

"This binder is killing me."

"Oh right! I'll take it off."

Draco dutifully closed his eyes while Harry undressed him, then out an old tee shirt on him, before they both resumed cuddling.

"See you in the morning, Harry."

"In the morning, Draco."

* * *

In the morning, Harry woke up and reached for his glasses. For once in his life, he was almost happy to be half blind again. Harry put his glasses on, and was met with the sight of a peacefully sleeping Draco wound around him. Harry kissed his forehead lightly, and whispered, "Good morning, Draco."

Draco's eyes fluttered open, and he smiled softly. "Morning, green eyes beauty."

Harry's cheeks warmed, and he moved in to give Draco a morning kiss, which quickly turned into a morning make out with Harry over top of Draco, grinding on his morning wood. Draco laughed, almost panting.

"Is every morning going to be like this with you?"

Harry grinned and dragged himself up Draco's cock, receiving a whiny moan in return.

"I hope so."

Draco grabbed Harry's hips and began bucking up as Harry kissed and sucked at his neck.

Outside, the sun peaked out from behind a cloud, heavy rain turning into mere drips, and slowly evaporating the rain left on the ground. Hogwarts seemed to hum with a renewed sense of magic, and two first years glared at each other across the great hall, trading silly faces with one another. With the sun shining brightly, students practiced Quidditch outside, almost forgetting about the things they had been through, if only for a little while.

* * *

 _The End!_


End file.
